


Currents

by dragonofdispair



Series: Roads [2]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-01
Updated: 2008-05-01
Packaged: 2018-02-26 18:21:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2661824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonofdispair/pseuds/dragonofdispair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On Cybertron, an Autobot does a bit of sneaking around, but even the most observant mech can miss a few things...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Currents

Jazz waited in the shadows of a sensor blind spot. This route was patrolled and he couldn't risk moving until they passed him. He'd prefer not being here to risk being spotted, but he didn't have enough time. Best to wait, no matter how much he didn't like the risk.

Primus and luck were with him though, as the two patrolling 'Cons didn't notice the extra dark form huddled against the wall of the base.

As soon as he was sure they were out of sight, Jazz moved to the drone entry door half buried against the ground. It was simplicity itself to override the small door. These entrances to their bases were one of the th'Cons' more arrogant mistakes -- special hidden entrances for their drones to use to get into the maintenance crawl ways. Granted Decepticon drones were enforced loyal, but they forgot that the Autobots could build small mechs as well.

Of course, Jazz thought to himself, just because a 'Bot could get in through the entrance as easy as a drone could, didn't mean that actually doing so was any safer than going in through the front door.

This was actually the most dangerous part of this infiltration. He needed to find an unwatched hatch into the main hallways and fast. Now that he was in, there was a chance to bluff if he was seen by a mech. Or kill the mech. But if he was caught in the crawl ways by a drone...he'd be in deep slag that was for sure.

More often than he would have liked, Jazz had to freeze to listen to the distant skittering sounds of a drone moving around in the crawl way. Twice he had to change directions to avoid the drone. If that happened too many more times, Jazz wasn't going to be sure where in the base he was.

Finally, though, he found a maintenance hatch in a storage room that didn't have any mechs nearby, and if he was reading the angles on the camera right...now. He scrambled out of the crawl way, made sure it was closed behind him, crouched on the floor for exactly four and half ticks, then, during the seven ticks the camera's blind spot extended down half the room, he rushed to a better hiding spot behind a crate.

Then during that camera's next pass, he moved to the door. It was simpler to override the door to the storage room than it was to open the door outside. He slipped into the hallway.

He never noticed the creature that had been recharging in the storage room when he made his way through.

  
888

  
He still stuck to the shadows and sensor blind spots as he made his way through the base. Most of the 'Cons were in their recharge cycles. Those that weren't were more than a little overcharged. There had only been one that had been sober enough to recognize that he didn't belong, but he'd been drunk enough that he'd also been easily dealt with. The other 'Cons probably wouldn't go looking for the yellow seeker until he failed to show up to whatever his next duty shift was.

Something was giving him the shivers though. Jazz didn't think it was the overcharged Decepticons wandering erratically around. Infiltrating after a 'Con victory and crashing the party wasn't uncommon. It was usually when the slaggers were paying the least attention. No it was something else.

He knew he'd kept himself from being caught on camera. Sensors inside the base weren't adjusted to point out a mech as unusual -- a mech was a mech as far a sensors were concerned. The best use for them was to tell when someone had gotten where no one should be. In the corridors during a party didn't count. Primus, he'd even made sure that he wasn't seen from the maintenance hatchways, in case a drone was in there.

Most who knew him would be surprised at it, but Jazz was not a 'bot who believed in the mystical. Signs and stars and portents had nothing to do with the success or failure of a mission. He'd never admit it to Prowl of course, but a mission was as much about logic as intuition. And beneath it, Jazz was a logical 'bot. And that was why the creepy feeling was bugging him -- there was no reason. Not even that the mission was going too well, 'cause it wasn't.

Deftly he disabled the one camera he couldn't avoid and slipped into the head seeker's private suite. The door shut automatically behind him.

And promptly froze. Energon nearly freezing in his pipes.

The base commander had a drone. Why hadn't that been in the intel reports?

The thing was formidable looking -- relatively small and fast, some sort of thin arthropod with big wings, probably fit a seeker's aesthetics perfect-like. Recharging on the berth.

Jazz debated what to do for a tick. If he killed the drone, its master would know fast as an optic reset. If the drone woke up, he'd be found out just as fast. If he just left, th'Bots wouldn't get a better crack at killing the base commander, perfect coward of a 'Con that he was.

The drone's wings fluttered a bit, hopefully not in response to Jazz's presence.

Loud, over-energized voices outside the door to the suite decided him. Silently as a shadow, he moved deeper in the room, into the shadow of the Decepticon's desk, where he'd have a moment before he was noticed.

The door keyed open. "Lights, thirty percent." The green seeker's voice was slightly slurred from high grade, but he wasn't falling down. Red optics flicked around the room and brightened with anger where they settled.

"You," he growled out threatening, "off the plate." Suiting actions to words th'Con stalked over and roughly pushed the drone off the recharge berth with one foot. The drone landed on its back, facing Jazz.

A split tick of panic passed before he noticed the critter hadn't bothered turning its optics on, just curled up on the floor and went back into recharge.

This was why Jazz was the infiltrator, not Prowl. He didn't question the logic behind the gift of luck, just, when the seeker's back was turned, grabbed the mech with a magnetic field and sliced the 'Con's main energon lines with the medical scalpel he'd brought for the purpose. The dark green mech died without a sound.

Jazz spun to deliver the same fate to the drone, only to find it gone. "Frag." It was the first thing he'd said since the start of the mission. Nothing to do for it anyway. He spun and exited the suite, being sure the door was locked behind him.

He had one more thing he had to try and do before he could leave.

He didn't see the drone come out of the crawl way and smugly curl up on the body of its former master, which lay on top of the recharge plate, in a morbid semblance of affection, and go back into recharge, fluttering its wings in some sardonic comment known only to itself

  
888

  
Turnover at the Decepticon base awoke mechs who did not want to wake from the scarce bit of recharge they'd managed after the party. They woke to the unpleasantness of hangovers, a dead commander, and a virus eating its way through their computers. The virus was kinda nifty, reprograming every console to do nothing but play simple games making them useless, among other things like ruin all the data in the system and chew the firewalls to shreds. The 'bot responsible had even been kind enough to put his name on each of the games' high scores list: Autobot Jazz.

  
fini


End file.
